Fu*k the Bunny!

Yesterday's post didn't address its own subject.  Somehow I forgot to write about the thing that I was writing about.

The subject was obsession...

It occurred to me yesterday afternoon when I was playing with our dog, Barkley, while I was taunting him with his "bunny", that I had not hinted at the dark core of the thing.  It only takes once witnessing this primal creature, enthralled in obsessive ecstasies with his one-eared plaything, to realize the full depth of its power over the mind of the beast.

I adopt a somewhat continental accent when playing with the dog. Much like Christopher Walken does with "Champagne" on SNL but with a more boundless manic energy:

"It brings you pleasure to possess the bunny, does it not?"


Then I will retrieve the filthy plaything and hold it away from him, laughing at his obsession.....

"Now you see that I possess the bunny and it brings you great sadness, a sadness that knows no end, no..?.."

"Your only wish is to possess the bunny again, no?... To see the bunny flying through the air and under the bed... you love the bunny... do you not, you savage...?"


A throw from the front room into the bedroom, and the toy goes sliding underneath the bed. The dog will scurry to chase it, scampering in fevered pursuit, his hind legs pumping frantically to get underneath the bedframe and obtain his dark delights.

"Pursue the BUNNY...!!!!  PURSUE THE BUNNY...!!!!!  Make Haste YOU BEAST, MAKE HASTE...!!!!"

"Are you indulging your furry pleasures in obscurity once again?"

"Show yourself, you shameful and barbarous beast!"


Invariably I will start stalking the apartment chanting, "Fuck the bunny...Fuck the Bunny... FUCK THE BUNNY...!!!!"... transfixed with the illicit mantra until my wife quietly directs me to calm down and stop scaring the dog.


This is what I meant by obsessions.

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